It feels like I’ve been waiting ages for the new season of Barry to come out. I remember discovering this show at the tail-end of 2019, and I remember the utter shock and starstruck wonder I felt as I watched the first two seasons. Alec Berg and Bill Hader have crafted something truly special with this show; and, as much as I try to not rewatch shows and discover new ones instead, I can’t tell you how much more I appreciated the craftsmanship of this on rewatch. It’s hilarious, it’s dark, and it holds a very special place in my heart as my absolute favorite show of all time.
SYNOPSIS: Barry follows Barry Berkman, a discharged Marine from Cleveland, who works as a hitman. Lonely and dissatisfied with life, he travels to Los Angeles to kill a target and ends up finding an accepting community in a group of eager hopefuls within the L.A. theater scene.
Watching this show for the first time (God, it was years ago now), something about the balance between the macabre subject matter, and the absurdist comedy that takes place captivated me so quickly. From the moment the first time “Change for the World” by Charles Bradley played over those big red words (BARRY), I knew I was in for something special.
Bill Hader navigates this role with subtle profession. His performance goes from being violent and full of rage, to awkward and quiet on a dime. There are scenes where he’s interacting with other characters, literally having conversations about murder and death - that are so smartly written and attune to his character - that I don’t even realize the weight of what’s happening until it’s over. I love watching his character on screen, both in the humorous moments and in the more dramatic scenes, because Hader is just so great at handling both.
I know there are shows like Breaking Bad where the protagonist is a bad person, and they’ve made that choice work before, but they really go for it here; Barry is a bad, BAD guy - but miraculously, I care about him so much. The murdering, the actions he commits, and the pure agony he puts others through just to survive is so heavy to watch, and yet, I care and root for him all the same. From a writer’s standpoint, you have to really sell the motivations of a character like this and you have to sell them to the audience as well. Why should I care about this homicidal maniac? Hell, why should I watch this show!? My empathy comes from the absolutely surgical construction of the characters and plot. At his core, Barry is a human being, trapped in a situation trying to make a better life for himself, and trying to change his nature; and we feel for him because he’s DYNAMIC. Bill Hader brings so much life to this character on and off screen, and you can tell through every fiber of Barry’s existence.
Henry Winkler as Gene M. Cousineau is one of my favorite castings of all time. The nuances of his performance and just how deep he sinks his teeth into this character is honestly inspiring, and he really inherits everything Gene is about from the get-go. Sarah Goldberg as Sally Reed deserves literally all the awards for her performance here, she somehow manages to be wholly unlikeable at every turn, but in the best way possible. There’s a one-shot of her going off on Barry in the seventh episode of Season Two that is so captivating and progressively dynamic that it’s honestly mindblowing to observe. Stephen Root as Fuches gives off the same sort of unlikeable vibe as Goldberg but in a much more hauntingly real way, and his chemistry with Hader is off the charts. And, of course, Anthony Carrigan as everyone’s favorite NoHo Hank is magnificent to behold. He owns every scene, and gives the entire show a much needed sense of unabashed levity.
What I love so much about Season One of this show, is the natural progression of events. It sounds so simple, but the whole first season is really just about Barry trying to find peace in his life. He daydreams crazy scenarios where he teaches his kids not to inflict harm on others, or where he quite literally lets Jon Hamm “shit in his house” (I’m not kidding). Throughout the entire season, he’s trying to escape his life as a hitman in these imaginations, and in the final episode; we see his life finally turn into the one he’s been dreaming of.
Until it all goes to shit, in typical Barry fashion. Nothing good lasts forever.
If I ever write a show/movie/book (ahem, don’t you mean when?) I will always remember how this show treats its side characters with abundant focus, because that is the easiest and most effective way to build a world: Make your characters feel lived in. Each and every member of Winkler’s wacky acting class ensemble is interesting and fleshed out in the most minute ways. As the series progresses, we see the backstory of said characters expanded upon through expository scenes played out by the individuals on stage. Whether that be through a comical story about the first time one of them witnessed a horse, or a dark-humor bit about one of the character’s twin dying in utero; this is all vital information to the world, juxtaposed with the blackness of Barry’s individual struggle.
Season Two runs with a narrative about truth, and the change of human nature. Watching this unfold, blossom, take flight - HONESTLY, WHATEVER, I CAN’T SAY ENOUGH GOOD THINGS ABOUT IT - is so beautiful and crushing all the same. We go through so much healing, so much turmoil and heartbreak with these characters in season two. We spend the time with them, and in the end, it just makes the conclusion that much more heartbreaking. Barry reaches a breaking point in this season that is so harsh, so relaptive, that I honestly did not know how they were going to redeem him… But that’s just it, they’re not going to.
He’s the bad guy now.
Good person or not, he’s the bad guy now, and he’s going to accept that.
When it comes to individual episodes of this show, I think of it less as an episodic chain of events, rather an entire story being laid out moment by moment. Watching an entire season is an entirely possible scenario (speaking from experience?) because the story flows together so well. But when I think of my favorite episode of the show, and honest to God, when I think about my favorite episode of television EVER, I think of “ronny/lily”. I honestly don’t know how to explain my love of this episode of television to another human being in words. I wish there was another form of communication, another way I could show you just how much I love this episode, but instead over the years the only way I’ve been able to effectively communicate my love for “ronny/lily”, is by BEGGING other people to watch the show. If I have ever recommended anything to anyone before, FORGET ABOUT IT!
Just, for the love of God,
Watch. This. Show.
And when you finally see “ronny/lily”, I hope you can experience a fraction of the joy I felt when I did so for the first time. This episode is funny, it’s dark, it’s subtle, it’s outrageous, and it is so well directed it makes me want to get up and grab my camera just talking about it. I honestly don’t know what to compare it to, it’s like it exists on its on plane of being from the rest of the series - and not in a bad way. There’s no major gap in quality being asserted here in this episode. Sure, there’s some long action takes, but that’s not what makes this special. Over the years I’ve asked myself the question: Why is this the episode? The episode that left me speechless, the episode that felt reserved, and yet so loud and explosive all the same? I believe, it’s because this episode, which certainly functions within the confines of the show’s narrative, exists in a bubble.
This is not an unfamiliar concept by any means, the peruvial bottle episode mechanism for television is by now a much used device, but here, it serves a different purpose. This episode places two characters, Barry and Fuches, in a scenario where they have to coexist despite being at odds with each other due to recent events in the story; but it doesn’t take this story-beat and scream it into our face, no, it slides it across the cinematic table, and lets us observe from an almost Freudian sequence inside Barry’s mind. This dramatic beat, pit up against the absolute absurdity of watching Hader get boxed around by an olympic Taekwondo master, makes for an absolutely wild ride.
Freudism/Taekwondo - now that’s “ronny/lily” for you.
Let’s not forget either that Hader was not only in front of the camera for this series, but behind it as well as a writer AND director. I’ve said before that I love celebrities who are eclectic in their artistic approach, and Hader really fits the bill (HA, what!). Regardless, I think with Hader’s creative style coming in on all fronts, this show is constantly achieving his vision through and through. It all feels so airtight and three-dimensional, and that’s why I love it SO MUCH. It’s not defined by anything, we’re watching events unfold on screen, with such creative liberty and style, that they could really make anything work (and trust me, they have).
I could probably sit here for another hour and yap about how much I love this show, but please, just go watch it. Watch it for a laugh, watch it for a cry, watch it to experience something so eerily real that it blows your top off. Barry is so many things, and yet it isn’t defined by anything. It’s a story of life, and the crazy/absurd things that happen in the story of being human. I’ve probably made it seem like this show is the second-coming for anyone who hasn’t seen it yet reading this, and so what - maybe it is? But at least you get it now, my unequivocal, unadulterated love for this show.
Thank you for reading.
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